Steel
by Kearie
Summary: It's a period in Hogwarts' history that's rarely mentioned. Harry Potter has struggled for 6yrs to forget his own involvement. Now hes being asked to defend Draco Malfoy, the cause of it all. R/R!
1. Prologue

Steel (1/?)  
  
Author: Kearie  
  
Author E-mail: Kearie678@yahoo.com  
  
Category: drama angst  
  
Keywords: draco harry hermione  
  
Spoilers: For all 4 books  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Disclaimer: Insert trite disclaimer here. I don't own any of this. The characters and inspiration all come from J.K. Rowling, whose books are published by Bloomsbury et al. Warner Brothers (and their Warner Sister Dot!) has the movie rights, and this plot was inspired by a plot bunny from Lonely Dreamer (aka Ginny with a smile). The opening paragraph is from a comic called Johnny Homicidal. I got the quote from a zine so I couldn't tell you who published it. I'm not making any money off of this!  
  
Special thanks to my beta-reader Evil Flame Goddess…You are the best!  
  
***  
  
Steel Chapter One: Prologue  
  
Art thou a rock, O wretch, or steel to slay?  
  
-Medea  
  
***  
  
I don't kill people.  
  
Perhaps its just another inhibition to do away with. Perhaps not. There's really no way of telling. It's possible I've just never been able to well up so much interest in any one person to care enough to end their life...I'd much rather avoid them altogether.  
  
Still, that doesn't change the way others will see me, especially now. There are few people who would've given an unequivocal 'yes' if asked 'Do you think Draco Malfoy would kill someone?', Weasley being one of them. I don't even think stupid, noble Potter would. Something about seeing the good in people and all that. Still, I don't think anyone in the whole bloody school, hell, the whole Wizarding world, would've foreseen this. Who am I kidding? Of course they didn't foresee it, or they surely would have prevented it...  
  
I, Draco Malfoy, am in possession of a gun. I took it from my father's study over Christmas holiday. He used to use it for hunting, being the sporting gent that he is. Now he's too busy slaughtering people to bother much with animals anymore. He won't even miss it. It was just perched ever so casually and accessibly on his shelf, how could I resist?  
  
With said gun I, Draco Malfoy, have just shot my old friend and dormmate, Blaise Zabini, squarely between the eyes. Revolting really, but I had to. I had to do it for her.  
  
I don't kill people. I don't, but I just did. I dragged Blaise's body into the broom closet in the Dark Arts corridor, but it will only be a matter of time before he is found. As disgusting as it sounds, I don't feel sorry. He got what he deserved. He got a fate I look forward to meting out to many more like him.  
  
***  
  
Harry read the last line in the entry over again.  
  
He got a fate I look forward to meting out to many more like him.  
  
He scratched his head thoughtfully, then tucked the journal away in his briefcase. It was too much to relive all at once.  
  
Rising from a bench outside the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Harry disposed of the remainder of his lunch in a nearby bin and headed inside. He wasn't sure exactly why he had been put on this case. For starters, he wasn't objective. Surely he would have never served as a character witness for Draco Malfoy to begin with, but to be leading his defense team? According to Dumbledore, this journal was supposed to be the evidence in Draco's favor. Using it, Harry was supposed to prove Malfoy innocent. Such a ruling would release him from St. Mungo's after six long years, the majority of which had been spent in solitary confinement. To Harry, Malfoy seemed anything but innocent, and thus far the journal was confirming that. From where he now stood, it looked as though Malfoy had ruthlessly shot eight people, killing three of them, and held all of Hogwarts hostage for a girl.  
  
"That was an asinine idea, Malfoy," Harry thought, flashing his ID card to the nearly comatose security guard at the door.  
  
Harry had been there when it happened. His practically useless left arm stood as a tribute to the final bullet in that gun. Malfoy had shot him, and he was being chosen to lead the defense team. Whether this was ironic or merely stupid Harry was unsure.  
  
Pushing open the door to his office, Harry resolved to read the journal that night. It would be a much easier task with several drinks in his system. 


	2. Re-opened Wounds

Steel (2/?)  
  
Author: Kearie  
  
Author E-mail: Kearie678@yahoo.com  
  
Category: drama angst  
  
Keywords: draco harry hermione  
  
Spoilers: For all 4 books  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Disclaimer: Insert trite disclaimer here. I don't own any of this. The characters and inspiration all come from J.K. Rowling, whose books are published by Bloomsbury et al. Warner Brothers (and their Warner Sister Dot!) has the movie rights, and this plot was inspired by a plot bunny from Lonely Dreamer (aka Ginny with a smile).  
  
Special thanks to my beta-reader Evil Flame Goddess…You are the best! And thanks to my (very few) reviewers too!  
  
***  
  
Steel Chapter Two: Reopened Wounds  
  
It took three days and as many owls from Dumbledore to convince Harry to attempt Draco's journal again.  
  
He grabbed it, along with a gin and tonic, and made for a comfy armchair in the living room. His was a pleasantly furnished flat, really only large enough for one occupant. It was fairly tidy, if somewhat cluttered. From the Quidditch trophies on the mantel to the pumpkin juice stains on the upholstery, it was distinctly Harry's.  
  
He knew, having once stood by as another was wronged, that he could not let it happen again. If Draco wasn't really a cold-blooded killer, then Harry saw no way he could permit what had happened between Malfoy and himself to stand in the way.  
  
With this thought, Harry thumbed through the ragged volume until he found where he had left off.  
  
***  
  
Let me begin, if not at the beginning, than somewhere nearer to it than we currently are. We'll start with why I insist on writing this all down rather than fleeing while I still have a chance of escape. The answer is that I am a Malfoy and we finish what we have started. I will not run from justice like a frightened dog. I record my version of events because I know the chance that I will get to recount them for myself is slim. I fully do not expect to live to see the end of this. I hope this brief explanation serves to quell your curiosity on this particular point.  
  
***  
  
Harry ceased reading as he felt a pair of warm lips press against his neck. He slammed the journal shut loudly.  
  
"What are you doing here?" he snapped.  
  
Hermione primly removed herself from the arm of his chair. "Oh I understand," she replied. "Next time I enter my own living room I'll try to remember that your presence is a giant, flashing 'Do Not Enter' sign."  
  
"Sorry, forgot it was yours too," Harry mumbled. "Besides, I didn't expect you home yet. I didn't hear you come in."  
  
"Apparated," she responded with false brightness, seating herself on the footstool opposite him. "What's so important that you forgot you have a fiancée?"  
  
Hermione watched his face carefully, searching its well-loved lines for some clue as to what had been distracting him so much over the past few days. She saw his brows knit and the corners of his mouth turn downward. He stared forward without seeing, as though he was focusing all of his energy on what he was about to tell her. She knew not to interrupt him when he was like this. Whether this state signified that he was emotionally closed or vulnerable, she had yet to discover. She only knew that it meant he was volatile and, usually, grappling with some larger-than-life problem that could only come from being Harry Potter.  
  
Just as Hermione was about to be lost in her own musings, Harry snapped back to attention.  
  
"They're re-opening the Malfoy case."  
  
If there was anything that Hermione had expected to hear, it was not that. She felt her breath catch in her throat as her eyes immediately darted to Harry's left arm, which he was rubbing absent-mindedly.  
  
"Do they want you to testify?" she ventured gently.  
  
"No. They want me to be his lawyer."  
  
"His lawyer? His lawyer?!? As in, the one who says 'Malfoy's not guilty'? He shot you Harry! You were there, you saw him with the gun in his hand! There's no way he's not guilty and if there's anyone knows that it's you! And..."  
  
"Hermione, you're ranting! Calm down for a moment OK?"  
  
It was only then that she realized that at some point during her speech she had taken to her feet.  
  
Harry had stood up facing her, and the worn book he had been reading had fallen to the floor.  
  
"Sorry," she mumbled, stooping down to retrieve the faded volume for him. He reached out and pulled her arm back. His eyes locked with hers.  
  
"Leave it."  
  
Hermione stood back and let him get the book himself. He placed it facedown on his chair so that she could not see the cover.  
  
"Harry, who put you up to this?"  
  
"Dumbledore."  
  
"And what made him think..."  
  
"Who knows." Harry ran a hand through his hair distractedly. "He said if I read that," he gestured towards the nearby volume, "I would understand why it could only be me."  
  
"And have you read it?"  
  
"Well I was trying to until you barged in!" he snapped. Hermione looked taken aback. "Sorry. I've been rather excitable lately. I've actually been trying to read it for the past four days, but I can't seem to get past the third page or so."  
  
"What is 'it' exactly?"  
  
Harry gave a bitter laugh. "Malfoy's journal. He admits to killing Blaise Zabini in the first page, the first line even. The only way he's innocent is if there's a disclaimer somewhere saying 'All I write in this journal is a lie.'"  
  
"So then there's no new evidence?"  
  
Harry shrugged irritably. "He shot Blaise for a girl it seems. The journal is over one hundred pages long, so I'm sure there's more. Malfoy is quite a prolific writer. Maybe Dumbledore wants me to sympathize with his tortured, poetic soul." He ventured a smile. It both looked and felt alien on his pale face.  
  
Hermione moved towards him. "Harry..." He put a hand up to silence her. She grabbed his wrist and brought his hand to her lips. "Harry," she attempted again.  
  
"Mmm?"  
  
"I'm here, you know. I wasn't there then, but I'm here now, and maybe I can help you. I'm removed from the situation. I can read the journal and give you the relevant facts."  
  
"Dumbledore said there are reasons that only I can defend Malfoy."  
  
"Harry, don't let this tear you apart. I'll read it for you. If there's something you need to know, I'll tell you about it. Please let me do at least that much."  
  
Harry stared at the floor in silence for a few minutes. "Thank you," he choked, "Thank you so much."  
  
Hermione offered him a small smile. "Go and sit down in the kitchen. I'll make some tea." 


End file.
